The Money Is Green (33 page)

“Yes, tell Wo I want him to finish that job also. It’s too risky to try to hide them. I don’t want to take any unnecessary chances.”

The congressman laid back down on his stomach. This is getting convoluted, he thought. Four people getting murdered. This will be the last time I get involved with Mei Chen. The stakes are getting too high. He cleared his throat. “Okay, Madam Chen, I’ll pass on your request to Wo. I’ll call you tomorrow when the shipment is safely in Mexico.”

“Thank you, Congressman Waters,” she said passively. “I look forward to speaking with you tomorrow.”

Waters studied the phone for a minute, then shrugged. He dialed a number and waited for Wo to pick up.

F
ORTY
-F
OUR

T
he moonless night was silent except for an occasional cricket. Millions of stars added some light, but overall it was pitch black. Agent Mark Namath, his face smeared with black face paint, stood in front of a camouflaged truck, his back up against its side. “ATF” was scrawled across the back of his jacket. He faced five other men and two women, all dressed in black uniforms with dark helmets and visors that were pulled up over their heads. They stood at attention, their arms cradling AR-15s as they waited for him to speak. The truck had been parked across the empty runway, and they could see over his shoulder the lights from a larger hangar in the distance. The silhouette of a cargo plane parked in front of the hangar could barely be made out.

“Okay, listen up,” Agent Namath said in a hushed voice. “It’s almost time to move. We’re going to cross the runway and fan out around the C-47. Turn all electronic devices off now and communicate by hand signal. When you’re all in position, I’ll give the signal to rush the hangar.” He paused for a second, looking into each of his team member’s eyes. “No matter what happens, I want to take their leader, Quan, into custody alive. You’ve all studied his picture, so there should be no reason you don’t recognize him. More than likely, there
will be resistance, and you are authorized to use deadly force, but spare Quan. Are there any questions?”

No one raised a hand or called out, so Namath nodded to them. “Okay, let’s roll.” He turned and hunched down, walking briskly toward the lighted hangar. His heart started to beat quicker from the adrenaline rush he was feeling. He slid his index finger through the trigger hole and gently pressed down until he felt resistance. After moving one hundred yards, he signaled for the team to stop. He got down on one knee and relaxed his breathing.

So far, so good, he thought. He could hear the sound of a forklift engine coming from around the plane and another from inside the hangar. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see one man with an assault rifle standing just inside the hangar, his back to Namath and his team. There is a potential problem, Namath thought. He’s going to be the first to go. He turned, held up one finger, and pointed to the corner of the hangar. He made a slashing motion across his throat. Each member of the team nodded.

Namath stood up and hunched over again, making his way steadily across the tarmac towards the plane. He could hear voices yelling back and forth at each other in Chinese as he reached the wingtip of the plane. He directed his team with hand signals, and they spread out in the dark around the plane, kneeling on one knee once they got into position.

Checking back at the man guarding the hangar, who still had his back to him, Namath held up his hand for his team to see. He looked left then right, checking to make sure everyone was in the right position. He dropped his hand and started sprinting the last twenty yards toward the hangar. He yelled at the top of his voice, “ATF! Freeze! Drop your weapons!”

Another agent yelled out, “FBI! Drop your weapons!”

The man at the entrance spun around and leveled his assault rifle at Namath. He squeezed off two rounds before five of Namath’s team opened fire, the shots exploding around the hangar. The man
staggered as ten bullets found their mark and he fell backward, firing his weapon harmlessly in the air.

Two men at the back of the hangar raised up their hands in surrender. The team swooped into the hangar, their rifles sweeping left and right, looking for unseen threats.

Namath ran toward the forklift, which had stopped moving. He pointed his rifle at the driver’s head. “Put your hands in the air! Where I can see them!” he screamed as he ran.

The man in the forklift slowly raised his hands. “I’m unarmed,” he yelled. “Don’t shoot!”

Reaching the forklift, Namath stopped, his heart racing. “Get down off the machine, Quan, and lie face down in front of me.”

Quan, his hands over his head, stepped gingerly down to the ground. He turned to his companions and yelled something to them in Chinese. They both started laughing. He looked at Namath as he got down on his knees. “We’ll be back here tomorrow night, Mr. Agent Man,” he snarled. “All you are is a small inconvenience. My people will get us back to work in a few hours.”

Standing over Quan, Namath relaxed a bit. Apparently our sting has caught these guys off guard, he thought. That’s a good thing. He instructed one of the team members to handcuff Quan as he watched over him, his gun pointed at his shaven head. “I don’t know about that, Quan. I’m guessing you might be out of business a little longer than that.”

A camouflaged truck pulled up and stopped inside the hangar. The driver jumped out and opened the back, exposing a row of benches on both walls.

“Okay,” Namath yelled as he waved his rifle over his head. “Read them their rights, load them up, and get them out of here.” He stood and watched as the three men were helped to their feet and herded into the waiting truck. Tucking his rifle under his arm, he walked over to the plane and walked up the ramp to its entrance. Stacks of wooden
crates lined the walls on both sides of the plane. He stood there in awe as he sized up the massive cargo.

A female team member came up to his side and stood next to him, her mouth open in amazement. “Are all of these boxes filled with guns?” she asked. “How many do you think there are here?”

“I don’t have any idea, but my guess is thousands,” he answered without taking his eyes off the boxes. “This was quite an operation they had going here. No wonder it had such high priority from the agency.” He turned and smiled at the woman. “Well, let’s get going. I think we did our job tonight. Now it’s time for the justice system to run its course.”

♦

A crashing sound from the other room brought Wo Sung out of his deep slumber. As he groggily groped for the pistol he kept on his nightstand, he heard voices yelling from inside his house. Remembering the thick lines of cocaine he’d snorted the night before, he wondered if he was dreaming.

Suddenly, bright lights flashed in his face and he heard men screaming. “Get your hands up! FBI! Get your hands away from the gun or we’ll shoot! Do it now!”

Wo shielded his eyes with his left hand, and he slowly moved his right hand away from the gun and the nightstand. “Who are you? What do you want?” he pleaded, his voice gravely. “I haven’t done anything.”

He felt a pair of hands reach under his armpit and someone yanked him to his feet. A uniformed man came within inches of his face. “Wo Sung, I presume?” he asked.

Wo answered nervously, “Yes, that’s me. What do you want? Who are you?”

“I’m Agent Pete Clark, FBI. You’re under arrest for illegal arms trading, heroin trafficking, and murder. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you.”

The rest of the conversation was a blur as Wo was searched and moved into his living room, where he was let down onto his leather couch while agents combed his home. They had waved a search warrant in front of his face before they started, and all he could do was watch. I wonder who I should call first, he thought, my attorney or Congressman Waters. I hope he’s covered his bases. I’m not taking the fall for that dumbass politician. These guys won’t find anything here, but if they start following the money trail, there could be some bad repercussions. I need to take care of myself.

As he watched the agents catalog and box up his belongings, including the hard drive on his computer, Wo began to sweat. This is no small-time raid, he thought. These guys are looking for something or someone.

Agent Clark pulled up a chair sitting next to the couch. He produced a legal pad from under his arm and wrote some notes on it. “Any idea why we might be here, Mr. Sung? You’ve got to know by now this wasn’t just a random search.”

Wo raised his eyebrows and gave as innocent a look as he could muster. “I have no idea why you’re here. I haven’t done anything illegal. I don’t know what you’re taking with you in all those boxes, but you’re not going to find anything incriminating.”

Clark slapped him playfully on the thigh and smiled. “Oh, but you’re wrong, Mr. Sung. We’ve uncovered a goldmine of information already. You probably hadn’t heard this yet because we’ve got your man Quan in custody, but your gun-running operation hit a little snag.”

Wo’s breathing picked up. Oh crap, what did that weasel tell them? Quan likes to talk and feel important. I can imagine these guys feed his ego and he tells them everything. He swallowed hard, trying
to stay calm. “Quan has worked for me in the past, but he’s not currently doing anything for me now.”

Clark cocked his head, his eyebrows raised. “Really? That’s not what he told us when we caught him with that big shipment of guns you were about to fly to Mexico. He told us all about your little plans. Would you like to fill me in on who else might be behind this with you, or are you going to take the fall all by yourself?”

Wo took a look around his living room. Agents kept coming and going from various parts of his house, their arms loaded with boxes. He moved his neck to the left to ease up the sweat coming down the side of his head. What do I do here? Should I call my attorney? It could be a long time before I see the inside of this place again. He stared at Clark a second and then blurted out, “I know of an assassination that’s being planned. What kind of deal will you give me if I tell you what’s about to happen?”

Clark whistled to another agent, who hurried over. Speaking in a firm voice, he answered, “I’m not a judge nor can I promise you anything that happens in a court situation. But I can tell you if you withhold information that we could have used to save someone’s life, the book will be thrown at you and the full weight of the federal government will be used against you.”

He paused for a minute to let what he said sink in, then continued, “However, if you help us out and we end up saving people because of your cooperation, that will go a long way toward what we’ll recommend to a judge. We’re going to find out what you know eventually, so you might as well help yourself and help us now.”

Wo looked at Clark and then at the other agent. This gig is up, he thought. I need to cover my own ass. He took a deep breath and started speaking. “There are teams looking to eliminate four people…”

By the time he was finished, Clark was on the phone to his superiors and sprinting out the door toward his car. “This is the information I have on these people. Two are possibly located at the Roseville Kaiser hospital in the intensive care unit. The other two have
just arrived in San Francisco by jet from Japan, and one is possibly in route to the Roseville hospital. I need units rolling immediately!” He jumped into a car that had pulled up to the curb. “Head to the San Francisco Airport, fast! Turn on the siren!”

F
ORTY
-F
IVE

J
ason leaned into the cockpit and watched as the plane taxied toward the far end of San Francisco Airport. In the distance he could see an ambulance waiting next to a small terminal that stood away by itself from the main terminals. He turned and moved back to the middle of the plane, where a hospital bed was strapped down. Brian Thompson, his eyes closed, lay quietly on the bed, two IVs of clear liquid flowing into his veins. A young male nurse sat next to Brian’s bed, thumbing through a magazine. Jason came over to him and patted Brian’s arm. “Hey, buddy. I think we made it. We’ve just landed in San Francisco and there’s an ambulance waiting to take you to a real hospital. You’re going to get better and help me finish the Copper Mountain project.”

Brian opened one eye and gave a weary smile. “I wouldn’t be alive without your help, Jason. I can’t thank you enough. I really almost didn’t believe I was being poisoned, but I knew it wasn’t normal. What’s going to happen to Mei Chen?”

Shaking his head, Jason answered, “I don’t know, Brian. If she stays in China, probably nothing. But I’ve got to believe there will be enough to show she had a hand in trying to poison you. If that’s the case, there would be a criminal complaint filed against her and she
could be arrested if she comes back to Hong Kong. The British government still has a long reach there, so she’ll probably stay away.”

“I don’t know, Jason. She’s a powerful person with high-level contacts. I wouldn’t put it past her to bribe her way back into this country just to get even with you and me.” He pointed to a water bottle on a cabinet next to where Jason was standing. “Could you hand that to me?” he asked. “I’m thirsty.”

Jason gave him the water and took it back after Brian had taken a few swigs. “I’m afraid you might be right. She does have friends in high places. If anyone could dodge legal problems, even attempted murder, it would be her.”

The plane made an abrupt left turn and came to a stop. They heard the engines start to slow down and Jason got up to stretch. The pilot and copilot came out of the cockpit and opened up the door to the plane. A blast of sunlight came cascading into the fuselage, and Jason had to shield his eyes with his hand. “Great flight, fellas,” he said to the pilots. “I barely felt we were in the air.”

The pilot tipped his cap and then scrambled down the stairway. Two emergency personnel emerged from the ambulance and came into the plane, immediately checking on Brian. One of them toted a new plastic IV and quickly replaced the old one. They asked the nurse a series of questions while testing his blood pressure and checking his vital signs. After a few minutes, they strapped him down tight and lifted his bed, carrying him carefully down the stairs and off the plane.